So....I'm bloggin even though i really have nothing to say. I'm not even sure how I particularly feel at the moment, but I'm not sure what else to be doing with my time either.

I'm aware of a certain discomfort or discontent - not earthshattering, but not small either. I'm very restless. Artistically, i'm blocked right now, or at the very least inhibited. Not really sure what I want. Not really sure what I need (besides food).

Slightly anxious, rather confused. Been cooped up too long without enough sunlight? Surely. Been in the house too long without human contact, certainly - but I survive longer than most mushrooms do. I'm good at being by myself, and lately, I've needed it quite a bit.

So, I'm going in this spiral pattern. I keep passing by the same scenery, and do it frequently enough to realize that it's not a cycle, perse, but a spiral, because the circumstances change although the events are similar. How they occur may differ somewhat. It's how they need to be handled that will allow the spiral to change.

I get out my magnifying glass. It's often as horrifying as looking at bugs under several thousand times of magnification. I hate bugs. And they stare at me. Ugly little things. But if I don't look at them, I won't realize that they are really aresmaller than me, and I'm capable of dealing with them. I have to be able to identify them, so I know where to put them when I scoop them into a tissue and carry them out of the house.

And never mind the magnified dirt. The tiny things that live in dirt are scray when you look at them up close! That's why I need to use my vaccuum more often.

Looking at bugs up close will scare anyone if they do it for long enough.

When one's purse is full of bugs though, it's not so great as a purse. Who carries around a buggy purse? Don't put it in the overhead compartment. It'll get everyone's luggage all buggy. I'd like to have a nice clean purse with a mirror, maybe a dollar or two and some tasty mints thanks so much.

I'm not sure whose idea it was for me to have a purse though, I'm not really the purse carrying type, but whatever. I've got this vaguely buggy purse and I need to clean it up and put it to good use.

Some people like to hit you over the head with their purse, or they accidentally bump into you with an enormous purse that they shouldn't be allowed to bring on the bus.

I don't care much for the bus.

Crop circles.

I have no idea what that has to do with anything.

Distraction, although usually looked upon by me as a smelly tuna, may make a good casserole. Sometimes I need a casserole just to have something a little more simple than sushi. It can get crusty if it sits out for too long (casserole) and then it gets hard to scrape off of all your utensils and dishes. That's why you need to just eat it when it's fresh. with the buttery crumbs on top.

I'm at a road. I can see behind me, I can see in front of me quite a ways, but not past the horizon. There's no sense in backtracking, but I am apprehensive about going forward. I certainly can't just stand in the road, because the donkey cart might plow me over. that's never any fun.

It's trying not to pine for the memory of my trip, knowing that I can only see it in postcards- but knowing it is better viewed that way. And one can only hold so many postcards and keep traveling. I'm at a standstill. Near a bench, pondering whether or not I should sit and rest or just keep walking. I'd rather not let my indecision be my decision.

Maybe I should just walk slowly and notice the clouds, then maybe the pebbles, or those flowers over there. Or that fence. I need a cheese shop though. I'm hungry.

I've decided I'm hungry. That's a start. Still confused. Think I should toss some of my old rusty expectations into the friendly green recycling barrel.

I've got a long way to go.